This was he day that we decided to pursue Ruth's dream of seeing the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast of Ireland. It just so happened that we had the great luck of taking the hostel-endorsed tour with our roommate, Sean Conway, along with two recent Minnesota grads, Amanda and Rachel, on a BEAUTIFUL 70 degree (and clear...very importantly) day. Both instances of "Luck of the Jewish (in Ireland)" worked together to make our third day something truly special.
The day started at 6:30am with breakfast in the hostel kitchen with our friends mentioned above. Clearly, we were all glad we had "taken it easy" last night with the early wakeup today. A short, brisk walk to the tourist center near Trinity College and we boarded the tour bus. first stop: Galway. We slept most of the 2 hour ride there in preparation for what would surely be a big day. Upon arrival, our walking tour guide met us and told us all about the 4th biggest city in Ireland and historic one on the Atlantic. One of the coolest things we saw on this tour was St. Nicholas Collegiate Church. Here, we heard all about the history behind the words "Lynching" and "Lynch Mob" in relation to a father who killed his murderer son in Galway. Our tour guide, seeing our keen interest in the church, even pulled us aside to show us a Knight's Templar buried in the corner and calling references to "The Da Vinci Code". After leaving the church, we saw the colorful streets of Galway and Kennedy Park, named after the late Irish-American U.S. president. Before long we were back on the bus and headed to the main attraction: the Cliffs of Moher.
As we wove our way through the countryside of County Clare, it became apparent just how well these rural Irish maintained there quaint houses (some with traditional thatched roofs) and how much work went into stone property dividing walls. Our tour guide did an excellent job of mixing Irish incites with dry humor, most of it calling reference to his ex wife and his supposed ability to get any girl he wanted on the bus. We stopped for lunch in one of the small towns and dined on delicious seafood. I ordered the smoked salmon open-faced sandwich and was not disappointed. Within 45 minutes we were back on the bus and headed to the Cliffs, just as the sun became strongest and the shades fittingly came out.
What came next was quite possibly the most amazing runs of my life and probably the most treacherous as well. Of course, I had aspirations of running along the cliffs when I found out we were going but had not done any research to see if it was even possible. Pulling off my long pants and pull over, I exited the bus in just short shorts, t-shirt, and my signature Oakley shades hoping for the best. I asked the driver if there was any path aside from the approximately half mile of paved walking path around the visitor center. His response was that he "could not recommended" that I explore outside of this path because everything else was private property, as if he was just daring me to disobey him and explore further. Of course, in the name of an incredible running opportunity, I did just that. Heading left along the path on the cliff I came to a stone barrier marked with "Danger! Uneven Terrain" and watched as multiple tourists in front of me simply jumped right over it with no consequences apparent. I followed and soon found myself on a dirt and grass trail along the very edge of the cliffs. I began my run, even picked up the pace, as other tourists barked "be careful!" and the cows on the bordering property looked at me as if they were dumbfounded that this idiot American was braving this feat. For about 2.5 miles I ran along the cliffs unregulated despite the occasional tourist or rocky ravine. The path wound along the cliffs and finally culminated at the furthest cliff where an ancient stone building overlooked the Atlantic. For about 10 minutes, I just sat uninterrupted and gazed out on the light blue water crashing into the cliffs and the islands jutting up in the distance. I couldn't help but reflect on the simplicity of life and the beauty of nature despite all the conflict we see in our world today. Worried about missing the bus, I headed back the way I came with a little more confidence that I would not fall than I had on the way out. I arrived back at the visitor center just in time to hit the bathroom and meet Ruth with her crew before boarding the bus.
The ride back was fairly uneventful except for the the occasional picture stop for a great view or ancient stone structure. In all honesty, the group and I slept anywhere from 75-100% of the ride back after such a long day. It was good we did because all of us felt quite refreshed when we arrived back in Dublin around 9pm. We all (Amanda, Rachel, Sean, Ruth, and I) decided immediately before arriving that we would make a pasta dinner in the hostel kitchen to save a little dough. The girls headed back to the hotel to wash up and begin dinner while Sean and I picked up pasta sauce and drinks at a nearby grocery store. Before long, we had an excellent dinner/pregame and were ready to "go hard" for our last night in Dublin.
Our original plan was to meet with the pub crawl again but the addition to our group of the frat guys from Maryland (one named Ari and in AEPi) made us scrap this plan. We headed to Fogarty's bar in the center of Temple Bar. Here we came upon an amazing discovery: Green woven hats being worn by many tourists in the pub. Before long our entire group had them and was belting out Backstreet Boys and YMCA to the joint amusement of tourists and locals alike. We even did some horrific "Irish" dancing. One person utterly entertained by us was an elderly couple, Ruth and Cornelious, sitting next to us and who had met 45 years ago at this very pub! A few Irish ciders, Guinness pints, and some hoarse voices and we headed out in search of our next adventure, it being around midnight at this point. As often happens in big groups, I became the leader fully responsible for our next scene of debauchery, which in the group's mind would be meeting up with the pub crawl finally. Of course, as equally frequently the case, I had no idea where we were going. No matter though because upon not finding the crawl, we ran into a friendly looking partier American with an Irish friend (fully suited up in a way that would make Barney from "How I met your mother" proud). This Barney-esque Irishman instructed us to walk 15 minutes to a club called Copper, which he said would still be popping and even allow our ridiculous green hats. Unfortunately, the frat stars had to kill this plan with their decision of two of them to wear khaki shorts, not allowed in this club or the one next door. This would not discourage us though as we soon stumbled upon Dandelion, a bar and club that took us in without a hitch. A few beers for the guys and Strawberry daiquiris for the girls later, we were cruising downstairs to a full on rave that put Rick's American Cafe to shame. For about an hour we danced among the smoke, strobe lights, and mirrors until the lights came up for closing at 2:30am. Our walk home ran right into a boy band playing on Grafton street and we sat down to listen for a bit, creating a quite a scene as other people soon joined us. Of course, our next stop was munchies in the form of the always reliable and locally adapted McDee's. This was a great time for people watching as this was clearly the destination of drunken young, tourists and locals alike. I ended up in a few pictures and almost a fight with an Irishman I called an "asshole" (when he found out I was American he was quite nice about it though and I explained my loose lips). On that note, we headed back to the hostel just as the sun was coming up...it was 4am. What a frickin' day & night!
Wow! is all I can say.
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